


Run To You

by Sonzaishinai



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Injustice: Gods Among Us, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, As is Bruce, Batman needs a hug that will trap his arms to his sides, Clark is drowning in grief, Dark, Five Stages of Grief, Grief, Heavy Angst, I actually had a diff idea for this but I decided on this route, I might write the other one if Im up to it, Inspired by Run To You by Pentatonix, M/M, Majority of the characters tagged as mentioned are dead, Maybe I do too, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Wrote this at 3am, dead robins galore, including Dick actually, injustice fucking hurts man, seriously though everyone needs therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonzaishinai/pseuds/Sonzaishinai
Summary: Injustice's war ends as quickly as it began.





	Run To You

**Author's Note:**

> Recently, I've been having really disturbing dreams and they've escalated into nightmares in the past couple of days so since I can't go back to sleep without terror striking my heart, I've decided to write.
> 
> This is inspired by the song "Run To You" by Pentatonix
> 
> Actually, for the most part, it really isn't. I had a different idea when starting out at like 2 AM that was even sadder than this but I think I'll write that one later. For the time being, this idea came to mind so I wrote it.
> 
> I am sorry but after rereading this twenty times, no, I'm actually not.
> 
> Enjoy and feel free to pass around tissues.

_ A light in the room _

_ It was you who was standing there _

 

He was gone.

 

Bruce didn’t want to admit it but deep down, his heart had already accepted it. It’s been ready to accept it for years now- the day that he’d have to lose his sweet son, Dick. 

 

His bright little boy was gone- the light had faded from his eyes and the same blank look he’d seen in his parents’ eyes that fateful night was there.

 

He was too late. He’d failed and the ever-present reaper in his life had claimed the life of yet another one of his children.

 

God… his sweet children- oh god, why did the world have to be so fucking cruel to all of them…! They couldn’t- they couldn’t just let them live happy- god- fuck…! Dick was gone- Jason was gone- Tim- and little Damian… Poor little Damian had the blood of his beloved brother on his hands and it was all Bruce’s fault…! If only he just wasn’t such a fucking failure- he- god-

 

_ Tried it was true _

_ As your glance met my stare _

 

Tears streamed down Bruce’s face in rivulets. He hasn’t moved in hours- not since he’d brought Dick’s body with him back to the cave. His joints had gone stiff and the skin on which he sat was tender with pain, but still, he didn’t move.

 

He didn’t have to check on Alfred to know that he, too, was grieving and- fuck- he felt so horrible leaving him alone to fester his own guilt, but- god- he couldn’t- he couldn’t- 

 

It was all his fault and god he’s gotta be a failure at everything- he failed as- as a son to both his parents and Alfred, as a father to his innocent children, as a- as a lover to Selina, and most of all… as a friend… as a best friend to Clark and- and now- everything had been torn at the seams-

 

_ But your heart drifted off _

_ Like the land split by sea _

 

Clark- oh god, Clark- 

 

A pitiful whine escaped Bruce’s dried lips. The only sound he’s made in the hours he’d been sitting there, staring at his dead son, the body gone cold- nothing could have prepared Bruce for having to outlive two of his precious little boys. Nothing.

 

And yet, here he was left- with the reaper sitting at his side and that ever-present scythe poised at the ready- has been, since he’d left Arkham Asylum, stumbling through corridors like a robot and the gathered criminals parting for him like the red sea-

 

This is what he’s been reduced to. That’s how pitiful he’s become.

 

He was not fit to be a son. He was not fit to be a lover. Not a father. And not a friend.

 

He wasn’t fitted for this world.

 

He is the plague that haunts it.

 

_ I tried to go _

_ To follow _

_ To kneel down at your feet _

 

He is… he is the plague that haunts it…

 

And then Bruce is turning his head to his side so quickly, it could have been popped off right then and there from the stiffness- and he sees- he sees, again, that damned reaper that’s only followed him from birth and onwards-

 

And he laughs because he’s figured it out.

 

He is the plague! He’s the plague that’s covered this world in a mist all along!!

 

He’s the reason for all the fucking death around him!!

 

He!! The Bat!! Bruce Wayne!!

 

_ I’ll run _

_ I’ll run _

_ I’ll run- run to you _

 

He’s figured it out!!

 

He’s… he’s figured it out...

 

_ I’ll run _

_ I’ll run _

_ I’ll run- run to you _

 

He knows now…

 

He knows how to save the world.

 

He can save everyone now.

 

_ I’ve been settling scores _

_ I’ve been fighting so long _

 

No more innocents will have to die… 

 

...and the tears on Bruce’s face began to dry as he was struck with the epiphany, leaving him staring out past the reaper’s shoulder, past the scythe held at the ready.

 

_ But I’ve lost your war _

_ And our kingdom is gone _

 

“...Bruce…?”

 

A deep, however quiet voice reverberated throughout the cave, shaking Bruce out of his stupor.

 

Then louder, “...Bruce…!”   
  


And a hand was swooping through the reaper’s form, out emerging, Clark.

 

Ever gentle Clark, who’d been everything he wasn’t. Who was supposed to be what he couldn’t. A good son. A good father. A good lover. A good friend.

 

Poor, sweet Clark, who’d lost everything because of him.

 

…

 

He had to tell him what he’d found out-

 

-and the giddiness struck Bruce with such force, he’d begun crying again, confused when his sweet Clark’s face morphed into one of pity and guilt. 

 

One of eternal worry and sorry.

 

_ How shall I win back _

_ Your heart _

_ Which was mine _

 

“Why the long face, Clark?” Bruce smiled through the tears because now he knew how to fix everything. He could mend his best friend’s broken soul and let loose, Death’s grip on the ones he’d already claimed.

 

All the while, lost in his delusions, Clark was beside him, growing worried by the second.

 

“Bruce? Are you… okay…?”

 

_ I have broken bones _

_ And tattered clothes _

_ I’ve run out of time _

 

“Okay? Okay?! I’m fucking fantastic, Clark!!” Manic energy engulfed Bruce’s gaze and he became erratic, shaking as he gripped Clark’s blood-drenched wrists with a hold that would have snapped the bones of any other human. “I can fix this, Clark!! Please, please, please believe me!!” Bruce’s voice dropped to a near deathly whisper, and his eyes widened with joy. “Please. Please believe me, Clark.”

 

And his eyes shone with hope and-

 

-and Clark broke down, because, god, what has he caused. What has he done?

 

So caught up in his own anger and grief that he’d neglected to address his own best friend’s. Let a battle fester between kin and now the death of the little boy he’d watched grow up was weighing heavy on Bruce’s already fragile heart. Ran him to the ground with guilt that he’d begun begging for the trust that he’d never lost in the first place- so that here, the broken soul was, guarding a stone cold corpse like he was hoping for it to be reanimated with life- god, everything was so fucked-

  
  


_ I’ll run _

_ I’ll run _

_ I’ll run- run to you _

 

“I’ve always believed in you, Bruce… I never, not for a second, have distrusted you.”

 

Silence, as Bruce’s crazed senses processed the confession. Then…

 

“Good. That’s… that’s good… thank you, Clark. It means…”

 

“...it means a lot to me.”

 

_ I’ll run  _

_ I’ll run _

_ I’ll run- run to you _

 

And then Bruce stands, knees popping with the strain after having sat devastatingly blank for the last few hours, Clark’s eyes trained on him.

 

He brings a hand to his belt, and, for one puzzling and long moment, Clark seems to adopt a look of melancholy resignation before bowing his head towards the floor.

 

“Thank you for believing in me, Clark.”

 

_ I will break down the gates of heaven _

_ A thousand angels stand waiting for me _

 

“The rest is up to you. Thank you, for helping me to see.”

 

Clark’s head peered up at Bruce with wide, confused eyes.

 

“And thank you, for granting me this chance to help save the world. It was lovely working with you, Clark.”

 

_ Take my heart and I lay down my weapons _

_ Break my shackles to set me free _

 

“Goodbye.”

 

And then the batarang he’d slipped into his palm from beneath his draping cape was embedded into his chest, piercing his heart-

 

“BRUCE!! NO!!”

 

_ I’ll run _

 

Hands caught the falling figure whose eyes had began to dim.

 

“NO!! NONONONO!! PLEASE, GOD, NO!!”

 

_ I’ll run _

 

“BRUCE!!”

 

“PLEASE!! THIS IS A DREAM!!! THIS IS JUST A BAD DREAM!!! YOU’RE NOT DEAD!!! YOU’RE BATMAN, THE- THE PROTECTOR OF GOTHAM!! THIS CAN’T BE HOW YOU GO OUT!!”

 

_ I’ll run- run to you _

 

“BRUCE!! HOW COULD YOU!?! DON’T DO THIS!!! DON’T YOU FUCKING DO THIS TO ME!! I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU I WAS SORRY!!! YOU DIDN’T EVEN GIVE ME A CHANCE!! BRUCE!!!”

 

“BRUCE, NO!! PLEASE, COME BACK TO ME!! I’LL- I’LL FIND A WAY TO BRING BACK DICK AND JASON!! I- I KNOW WHERE TIM IS!! I CAN BRING YOU BACK TIM!! AND- AND DAMIAN!!”

 

_ I’ll run _

 

“I- I won’t- I won’t kill anymore criminals, Bruce- p-please… just come back…”

 

“Please, Bruce… I- I can’t- I can’t lose you, too… Not after Lois and my child- I- I need my best friend by my side- I can’t-”

 

_ I’ll run _

 

“Bruce… I should have let you known...”

 

“I- I love you…”

 

_ I’ll run- run to you _

**Author's Note:**

> Recently, I've been having really disturbing dreams and they've escalated into nightmares in the past couple of days so since I can't go back to sleep without terror striking my heart, I've decided to write.
> 
> This is inspired by the song "Run To You" by Pentatonix
> 
> Actually, for the most part, it really isn't. I had a different idea when starting out at like 2 AM that was even sadder than this but I think I'll write that one later. For the time being, this idea came to mind so I wrote it.
> 
> I am sorry but after rereading this twenty times, no, I'm actually not.
> 
> Enjoy and feel free to pass around tissues.


End file.
